


These Few Days Remaining

by FireEye



Category: Zero: Akai Chou | Fatal Frame II: Crimson Butterfly
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 20:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20103439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: Itsuki copes by taking care of those around him.





	These Few Days Remaining

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pettycoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pettycoat/gifts).

Chitose’s bell was ringing out in the hall, and her bare feet slapping the floorboards. She slid to stop short at the sliding door. The bells chimed restlessly, and in his mind’s eye, Itsuki could see her fidgeting.

It was a good thing, he thought, that she didn’t come barging in in search of him. He didn’t share her fear of strangers, but _this_ visitor brought out the dread in him.

Ryokan Kurosawa’s kindly, sympathetic smile did nothing to kindle warmth in Itsuki’s heart. Quite the opposite, if anything. There had been an emptiness in his chest since... _since_, but this genial visit for the sake of the Remaining brought ice to his veins.

He couldn’t help but feel that the ceremony master was somehow pleased for his failure. If he had succeeded, after all, Yae and Sae would have been safe. And the honor of those who offered their twins to the Darkness, along with seeing it through and the salvation of Minakami now rested squarely on the shoulders of the Kurosawa family.

Still, Itsuki played his part. He didn’t smile, but he went through the motions of accepting the consolation for the loss of his brother, even if deep inside he only felt resentment and the keen loss. He bowed to Kurosawa’s station, even if he was convinced it was twisted and eaten away like a rotten root.

When he finally left, Itsuki saw him out.

And, ignoring the rest of the household, who either bowed to _his_ sacrifice or ignored him in turn – as they had since his return to haunt these halls – he made his way through the house, stalking each room as he listened for the telltale chime of bells.

Itsuki found her in a cupboard under the floor, near his bedroom.

She shrunk back from the light, until he called her gently by name. She pouted, uncertain whether as to leave her hiding place, before crawling out to hide in his arms instead.

“I got scared,” she murmured against his shoulder.

Itsuki rubbed her back gently.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “Sometimes it’s good to be scared.”

“Can we go...?”

Her voice was small and muffled, and she trailed off into a mumble before he could make out the words.

“Huh?”

“Can we go to the river?” she asked again.

The corner of Itsuki’s mouth twitched. It was almost a smile.

“Sure.”

He stood, letting her slide down from his shoulder to stand on her own feet, but her hand remained in his. She peered up at him.

“Maybe Mutsuki will be there.”

Itsuki’s mouth opened. But neither the words, nor the aching, echoing scream from the depths of his heart made it past his lips.

***

Yae met them on the path. She smiled at Chitose, who only hid behind the sleeve of his kimono, then at Itsuki, who didn’t smile back. Her smile faltered, and Yae looked down.

Chitose’s bells jingled in the silence. Wind rustled through the leaves.

It was a boon, people said of their families. Twins were common, but not common enough. Remaining rarely had each other.

Yae tried to speak – to apologize, or maybe to express her gratitude or her sympathies. It was hard to tell, because the words tangled raw in her throat.

So Itsuki stopped her before she could.

“How’s Sae?” he asked.

The way Yae’s expression fell, he almost wished he hadn’t.

“She’s not doing well. I-...”

Yae’s eyes flicked up towards him, then away.

Itsuki waited. Time wasn’t on their side, and yet... they couldn’t make a move until the ceremony, anyway. Not all the pieces were in place.

“It’s foolish,” Yae admitted. “I feel like... like, somehow, we’ve already been torn apart.”

Itsuki’s gaze was drawn to the offering stone. Then he cast a more furtive glance around them.

They were alone.

He reached for her arm; a brief, gentle touch, that offered what little solace he could.

“You’re not going to lose her, Yae. I’m not going to let it happen.”

Yae smiled softly. Then tears welled up in her eyes. “Itsuki, we never... I never would have even dared to ask it of you...”

“I know,” he said simply. “That’s why we did it.”

Remaining rarely had each other.

Chitose’s bells jingled. Remembering she was there, Itsuki looked down to find her peering up, her gaze flitting between them.

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Remember. This isn’t over,” he promised Yae. “Make sure Sae knows; there’s still hope.”

***

The steady trickle of the stream over the rocks that jutted out of the riverbed was calming. The sound of it, the way it reflected the sunlight....

He and Mutsuki had come here as young children... and later, when Chitose was even smaller than she was now, they had started taking her along. She was frightened of the village, and one of them invariably had to carry her up the path, but once they reached the forest she would become calm again. The three of them would come here alone, away from the grown-ups and their whispers and their ceremonies and their strange, half-desperate stares that sacrificing their own children could somehow save them.

It felt like a whole other life.

It had only been a scant few months.

A crimson butterfly floated – its wings eerily translucent in the sunlight. Chitose reached up her hand, and it alighted on her knuckles.

Itsuki didn’t smile.

The butterfly wasn’t Mutsuki.

Mutsuki was gone. Forever.

“Why don’t I have a sister?”

Itsuki was shaken from the memory.

The butterfly had fluttered off.

“What...?”

“You have a brother.” Itsuki flinched, but didn’t correct her. He’d never been able to push the words past his throat, and nobody else had seen fit to tell her the truth, anyway. Chitose continued, “Sae has a sister. Yae has a sister. Mother had a sister. The man you were meeting with today said he had a brother.”

Twins. She meant why didn’t she have a _twin_.

Itsuki sighed deeply. Taking her hands in his, he met her eyes. They wandered, to the crimson butterfly that landed in his hair.

“Because you’re special,” he told her. “You’re whole.”

“But... can I have a sister, someday?”

“Chitose...” Itsuki’s voice faltered. “You don’t need a sister. You have a brother, and I’ll always be here for you.” His throat threatened to close in on itself. “Mutsuki, too.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.” A flash of crimson caught his eye, fluttering off. “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please accept this Itsuki trying to wrangle grief, rebellion, and a baby sister. :)


End file.
